


Birds of Prey

by Kaiserkorresponds



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, Eating Disorders, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist & Alice "Daisy" Tonner Friendship, Post-Alice "Daisy" Tonner in The Buried Fear Domain, The Beholding Fear Entity (The Magnus Archives), The Buried Fear Domain (The Magnus Archives), The Hunt Fear Entity (The Magnus Archives), The Magnus Archives Season 4, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 00:21:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29393322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaiserkorresponds/pseuds/Kaiserkorresponds
Summary: "I lost about two stone in The Choke, you know.""What?"Jon jerked his head back up at Daisy's voice, the buzzing of the words fading into obscurity at her blunt tone.Daisy nodded sharply once, the chair creaking with the motion."All that Earth pushing down on you, it starts to suck out the important parts. The vitamins, minerals, all that."Jon refused to examine how she knew about the chemical makeup of human nutrients."It leeches it right out. The dirt just consumes everything 'til you're left with nothing but skin and bones." Her voice broke off, and Jon could see her fingers wrap securely around a bird thin wrist. "It only took it a year to get to me, and I wasn't the smallest to start."--A study in Jon and Daisy and eating disorders.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 47





	Birds of Prey

**Author's Note:**

> Note that this fic does cover heavy material regarding eating disorders. If that would be triggering to read please skip this one. <3

Daisy's eyes were sharp. The myriad of calculations that lurked behind the stormy gray of her irises racing faster than he could parse and casting a predatorial glint to them. One that was unsettling and comforting in equal measures; depending on her level of animosity towards him, or the world at large, that day. 

Right now, the weight of her gaze weighed more than a slab of concrete on Jon's shoulders. 

"Do you need something?" He asked waspily. 

Daisy merely shrugged. Her feet pounded a brief pattern against the metal legs of the chair and her eyes, from where she was perched carefully above him, glared down. 

"Nope." She smirked, popping the last consonant obnoxiously. 

Jon sighed. 

"Then why is it required for you be here? It's not as if this–" He gestured to the array of paperwork fanned out across the desk. "Is at all interesting to you." 

Daisy shrugged again. The ripple of her shoulders a pale intimidation of her former strength. "Maybe I just like watching." 

"Well you should've applied here instead of the academy then." Jon muttered. 

A huff of breath punched its way out of Daisy's chest. 

"Yeah, imagine that would have gone over well." She grunted. "I wouldn't have excelled at sitting 'round all day, like you do." 

Jon couldn't stop the scowl from flickering over his face. 

"Again, if you dislike being here there's no reason to stay. Especially if you're only here to critique me." 

Daisy rolled her shoulders again, but made no move to leave. Just shifted around on the watchtower she had fashioned out of the chair's back, and snapped her jaw shut in a motion that plunged the room in silence. 

In the sudden quiet, Jon scanned the lines of cramped text all down the file he had been studying. It quivered faintly in front of his eyes, and he could swear that it buzzed slightly in his back teeth. As if the words themselves emitted a static charge. 

"I lost about two stone in The Choke, you know." 

"What?" 

Jon jerked his head back up at Daisy's voice, the buzzing of the words fading into obscurity at her blunt tone. 

Daisy nodded sharply once, the chair creaking with the motion.

"All that Earth pushing down on you, it starts to suck out the important parts. The vitamins, minerals, all that." 

Jon refused to examine how she knew about the chemical makeup of human nutrients.

"It leeches it right out. The dirt just consumes everything 'til you're left with nothing but skin and bones." Her voice broke off, and Jon could see her fingers wrap securely around a bird thin wrist. "It only took it a year to get to me, and I wasn't the smallest to start."

Jon nodded awkwardly. "Yes, well, I imagine that is part of its, erm, mechanism." 

Daisy's gray irises bored into him. 

"Does The Eye?" 

"Does The Eye what?" He repeated dumbly. 

"Does it suck everything out too? I mean, you were only in the coffin for what; a week? At most." 

Jon shifted disconcertedly. "I'm not entirely sure I see your point." 

"You're thinner than some who'd been in there for years." 

The words fell out of her mouth almost in slow motion. In all truth, he knew that they were delivered with her same blunt confidence as always and no slower than conversational speech. It still felt as if they had traveled through syrup before reaching him though. 

"I, erm. That– that's not really polite." He finally managed to stammer out, as if she cared about decorum. 

As predicted, Daisy scoffed. "Since when do we care about politeness?" 

Jon tried to wrap his tongue around any sensible response and found none. 

"Besides, I've been in this world long enough to know about the horrors of it. If The Eye is eating you, it's the least of what I've seen." 

She leaned back against her own spine, the desk chair she had declared her seat groaning with the motion. Even with her full weight resting on its backing, she barely weighed enough to warp the metal. 

"Just fess up if it's taking it out of you. It's not like it's forcing you to kill anything." 

"It's not." Jon forced out, hesitating harshly over the words. "It– The Eye doesn't feed on my body as long as I keep up on the statements. It doesn't appear to function that way." 

Daisy eyed him critically, and he had to fight the impulse to squirm under her gaze.

"So what's with the bones then?" 

"I–" Jon cut himself off. 

An unbidden tirade of memories washed over him. The stern visage of his Grandmother and her meager portions. The snickers of his classmates and their rapidly increasing heights beside his lacking frame. The giggling, yet adoring, way Georgie had draped her oversized hoodies across his narrow shoulders. The stress that had eaten him alive following university, and the way it had stolen the last remaining bits of his will to eat. 

"It's not The Eye." He muttered again. 

"What's it then?" Daisy raised a pale eyebrow. "Is it not supernatural?" 

"Well, it– it's not." 

"So it's a medical condition? Didn't think the fears would choose an avatar who couldn't keep on a few pounds." 

"It's not a medical condition." Jon snapped, sudden and sharper than he'd ever been to her. "Will you leave it?" 

"Yeah, sure." 

Daisy leaned back again against her throne of a desk chair, her own match thin limbs wrapped around the base and the tips of her nails dug into the metal. 

In the terse silence, Jon found himself shoving at the papers he'd been studying. The motion only a meager replacement for the urge to check himself. 

His fingers could always wrap around his wrists and he had no need to check that. But the thighs were a point of constant contention, and with the surge of panic Daisy's interrogation provided, the urge rose up to wrap his fingers around each. 

He squashed it. 

Only a few twitches of his fingertips betrayed him as he forced them to reshuffle the papers. Staunchly ignoring both Daisy's stonewall eyes, and the lingering compulsion to measure himself. 

"That's why I never see you eat." 

Daisy's interruption was somehow even less welcomed than the first few. 

"What now?" He snapped. "What do you  _ want _."  __

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"I wanna know if you're one of those anorexics or bulimics." 

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Jon had no doubt the faint sizzle of the compulsion had sped that answer along, but it made the sting of it no less harsh. 

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"Well, I'm not. Thank you." 

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Daisy merely shrugged again. "I've thought about it." 

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"Thought about what?" Jon repeated, the vagueness of her answers, as always, infuriating. 

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"Doing what they do. The anorexics and the bulimics. You know, stave myself. Make myself puke it all up when I'm done." 

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"It's not all the glamour it's made out to be." Jon muttered bitterly before he could stop himself. 

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Daisy's whole body rippled in what could have been called another shrug, but appeared more like a wolf shaking out its coat. 

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"I figured. No one sticks their fingers down their throat 'cause they love their life." 

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The words hung tense and heavy in the air. 

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"Always wondered if I was too weak, if the Hunt would just let me be." Daisy continued. "Stupid, I know, but it always felt like an option. That if I couldn't chase, that it'd just give up. Move on to someone else." 

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Jon pushed the meager air out of his lungs. 

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"It wouldn't." He said softly.

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"I know that." Daisy snapped.

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There was another terse silence. 

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"Right pair we are." Daisy finally muttered after it dragged over the typical time they allowed for a tiff. 

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Jon shrugged, suddenly exhausted. "Right." 

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"That's it? Right?" Daisy repeated, both of her blonde eyebrows raising nearly to her hairline. "Mr. Oxford degree and Head Archivist, and that's all." 

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Jon didn't argue that, truthfully, that's all that there was. Instead, he tugged on the niggling string of curiosity from that statement. 

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"How'd you know I went to Oxford?"

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Daisy smirked. "Why don't we grab lunch?" 

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"That has nothing to do with how you know what University I attended." 

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"I know." Daisy hopped off the back of the chair, the metal giving one last groan with the relief of her weight. "Do you feel like chips or a curry?" 

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"Well, I–" 

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"Curry sounds good for today." Daisy bulldozed. "It's down the block, 'bout four shopfronts. They've got green onions and fresh masala." 

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Her hand reached out to grasp his shoulder, and ignoring his slight flinch, she shoved him onto his feet. Her bony fingers wrapped around the sharp planes of his shoulder. 

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"They've even got a lunch special." She smirked, hauling him out past the confines of his office and toward the door. "My treat." 

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Jon didn't protest. For once, allowing himself to be dragged away with a steely trust that he buried the apprehension in his stomach with. Shoving down his fear of both of the curry and of The Hunter, and ignoring which one scared him worse. 

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"You don't have any cash for it to be your treat." 

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"Guess it's yours then." 

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**Author's Note:**

> Plz let me know if you enjoyed !! <3 And if you find any inaccuracies plz note that I wrote this in about an hour and it has minimal editing !!


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